


Complementary Force (Reversed Expectations Remix)

by navaan



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Eventual Romance, Getting Together, Invincible Iron Man Vol. 2 (2015), Kissing, M/M, Magic, Magic made them kiss?, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Remix, Romantic Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: He’s not new to obsession.He’s new to the need to leave it up to Stark to come to him of his own free will.





	Complementary Force (Reversed Expectations Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laire (laireshi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Reversed Expectations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9203588) by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi). 
  * In response to a prompt by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi) in the [remixrevivalmadness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixrevivalmadness2017) collection. 



> This is a remix of laireshi's wonderful fic [Reversed Expectations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9203588)I love the original story very much and couldn't resist ruffing Doom's feather's a bit more.
> 
> **Prompt:**  
>  Please only remix me in the fandoms I've signed up with. Safe stories: Control (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2511137) and Engineering Miracles (http://archiveofourown.org/works/7173146).
> 
> All my remixes have the word "remix" in title.

Tentacles of bright light spring up from all around Stark as if on command by an unseen force. Without his armor he's vulnerable, defenseless. And the more he fight back the harder it gets. Wild magic is like a bloodhound on the chase, like a net that is drawn closer with the struggle of the caught pre.

Stark doesn’t know, but Doom knows the magic won't stop. After all Stark - even though he's blinding himself to the fact with a stubbornness that is both amusing and frustrating - is _pure magic_. He's a natural sorcerer. One day he might realize that his science, his inventiveness and brilliance are all part of it. He’s tapping into the sources he understands now, but magic is there at his fingertips if he’d just be willing to grasp it.

Right now Doom hopes Tony doesn't realize it right this instant, when Doom's own magic gone feral is trying to choke the life out of him with briskly bright living bonds of light. The magic, cut from its own origin, is trying to absorb Stark's unrealized power. The man is one of the two bearers of Excalibur after all and the magic can't be fooled, even if the man is fooling himself. It wants the power.

The thought of the legendary sword puts the solution right into Doom’s mind and - he is not prone to lying to himself - that’s Stark's business - _Doom_ wants this.

There are at least six ways for Doom to banish the magic without getting close to Stark. But there is the easiest - and the most appealing way. And he knows which one he’ll take.

_He wants to take it. Wants to take. Wants to be given._

He steps right into the maelstrom of energy, the magic making way for the master it still recognizes even though it’s not in his control anymore.

Stark's eyes meet his while he struggles against the hold of the pure energy that is slowly killing him. His eyes reveal none of the panic he must be feeling.

True hero to the last.

That's intriguing.

Defiant in the face of likely death.

Doom isn't surprised.

Stark is.

Because now Doom is right in front of him, and is giving himself a moment to stare him in the eyes and think this through, waiting for the fear and confusion that never comes as cautious, guarded blue eyes bury the surprise and let slip through only a sliver of the _Of course this was you all along, you fucker_ that Stark doesn't say, but is thinking loud and clear.

Doom smiles. Stark gasps in pain.

Time to dissolve this spell before the wildness of magic sucks up Stark's power and becomes too much even for Doom to handle. That's why he's here in the eye of the storm.

_The easiest way to solve this -_

He leans forward and sees just for a second how Stark's - _Tony's_ \- eyes widen, before their lips touch and Doom's own fingers stroke across his cheek, softly, reverently, feeling the soft skin and the roughness of the beard. Tenderness is important, but he doesn't have time, - _and he wants_ \- he pushes past Tony's slightly open lips and kisses him thoroughly.

_is staking claim; is owning; is possessing._

The wild magic understands it instantly, the power of possession, dissolves before the stronger spell without putting much of a fight.

Unlike the magic, Stark doesn't understand. He crudely mutters, "What the fuck?", as soon as he's free.

“My apologies,” says Doom and inclines his head curtly. “The spell required that. It won’t happen again, of course.”

He does _not_ give Stark the opportunity to ruin his dignified retreat or see his regret at that admission. He is still Doom and Doom does not show weakness. He vanishes in front of Stark’s still confused eyes.

But Doom’s lips... They are still tingling from the brief connection.

In the privacy of his own sanctum he lets himself fall into an armchair and ponder the kiss, the need, the wish to have what might never be his.

He’s not new to obsession.

He’s new to the need to leave it up to Stark to come to him of his own free will.

Love.

He wants once more what he can’t expect to ever get.

But this time he wants to be the better man.

* * *

He has no idea how Tony Stark can find trouble so easily and he's about to open his mouth to tell him as much, when soft lips fasten to his and he's the one being kissed this time; his lower lip gets sucked into Stark's mouth - and it's the _second kiss_ maybe it is time to think of him as Tony - _Anthony_ \- not Stark.

The circumstances makes it unclear if either kiss _counts_ as anything more than necessity.

But the strand of magic around them are strong and distracting and his mind says loud and clear: _It's the spell, Victor. Don't be fooled. He doesn’t want itm but you do. Don’t lie to yourself._

_Tread carefully._

The kiss is sweet though and it's harder to pull away from it than he'll admit.

Finally, Tony looks up at him, blue eyes wide, and then he blinks, furrows his brow.

“You don’t want this,” Doom says very, very slowly, trying not to show his disappointment.

Of course, it is the spell. Anthony isn't ready yet to see him as anything but the former villain who pops into his hero life on occasion, bringing unwanted magic and disorder and complication. Iron Man has still not discovered how much magic is in him and why that attracts _more_ magic perpetually.

One day perhaps Doom will teach him.

The thought is enticing.

And dangerous.

Shaking his head, he performs the necessary motions to lift the spell and Tony stumbles forward in confusion, his eyes drooping. With a soft gasp he staggers and falls unconscious against Doom's chest. And Doom catches him with open arms and scoops him up, feeling soft puffs of breath against his neck as soon as Tony’s head rest against his shoulder.

"Sleep well," he says and steps them both through the magic doorways that come so easily to him. They reappear in Tony's current apartment. No alarms go off, no defense mechanisms spring up to stop him. Doom has done his research - _just in case_.

The AI's red holographic interface pops up in front of him; light and pixels forming a young woman's image. "You are not allowed in here," she says sternly.

"I'm just bringing home your Anthony," he says and knows the AI will record everything he does from here to show her master.

A shame.

He had planned to dispose Tony softly on his bed. An indulgence that would never have been a good idea.

Instead he carefully puts him down on the sofa now under the programme’s watchful sensors and cameras. The sofa looks comfortable enough for sleep. Not seeing a blanket or anything similar he takes off his jacket, drapes it around Stark's shoulders. For the first time since he’d been able to leave the armor behind, he misses the cape. Now it would have come in handy.

One last time he checks Tony for signs of the spell. Satisfied that no harm has come to him, no threads of affection magic linger, he vanishes as easily as he's come.

Now it is time to find the person who did this.

Doom doesn't let any harm come to his own. And he did stake his claim here, didn’t he?

* * *

He's not surprised to be questioned about the affection spell and the circumstances of the "rescue" the next time he strides into Tony's life without invitation. The man has _every_ right to ask and _all the reasons_ to make the wrong assumptions. A life of manipulation has earned Victor von Doom his power and infamy and he wears the cloak of it with pride even now. He’s never been enough of a liar to pretend that he wouldn’t have tried to take what he thought should be his at a time - though even then he liked he _illusion_ of consent.

Dark thoughts flit through his mind and he buries them fast. He _admires_ Tony. That’s why he approached him out of all of earth’s mightiest heroes. He can’t have him, won’t force or manipulate. Not this time.

Love, he finds, is unconditional and unselfish.

It’s annoying.

Tony watches him interestedly, as if he can know something of Doom’s struggles. Perhaps if anyone can understand what it costs to make the decision to be a hero instead of giving in to your darker impulses, it is Tony Stark.

“So you wouldn’t be open to repeating that?” Tony asks and raises an elegant eyebrow.

Doom winces. “No, I would not be open to kissing you again against your will or when your mind is altered. If it weren't absolutely necessary, that is.”

Tony beams at him. “Good thing it’s neither of those at the moment, right?"

“Anthony, if you’re—” He wants to explain the specifics of the spells again and make sure the would-be-sorcerer understands he wouldn’t have...

“Kiss me, Victor,” Tony says in such a firm, commanding voice that Doom halts.

 _Who does he think he is to order Doom?_ he thinks.

But the answer is clear: _Mine._

And so he leans over - following an order, but staking his claim all over again. Their magic bleeds together and sings, recognizing the dark-bright of a complementary force that has never been lost and yet missed.

Tony sighs into the kiss and Doom pulls him closer.

Kissing is even stronger magic when both parties are agreeable to it.


End file.
